For the past few nights, I’ve been writing and rewriting a blog post, “9 months in/9 months out,” marking the mini-milestone of Baby V being in the world as long as he was inside my belly. Given my long absence from this space, I feel like I’ve lost my writing flow. So, in an attempt to get back to basics, I’m just going to write for the next 30 minutes and see what happens. Setting the timer, and go!
Maybe I have too many things to reflect on the topic, but I have deleted more words than I’ve kept in the post, so I clearly don’t know what I want to say about the last nine months. There are the obvious developments to report on the baby – movement, eating, sleeping and the like. Or, I could blog about the changes we’ve felt as a family trying to balance being parents and being partners. Or, of course, I could write all about how I am adjusting and the blogger-required “body-post-baby.” Clearly too much for one post, and probably the reason the post wasn’t coming together.
So, instead of taking on everything, I’ll share a small slice of something current. Last time I blogged, I detailed a typical day, which is very driven by Baby V’s sleeping and eating routine. For the last few weeks, I can time his wake-up to the minute (he squeaks and squirms around 6:30, readjusts and then wakes between 7:05-7:15). And I glance at my phone each night after leaving him in his crib and it’s 6:40-6:50pm almost every.single.night.
I thrive on reliable routines. It’s why I did well on the half-marathon training schedule, knowing which days I had to run and for how long. Routines have helped me to be productive working remotely as well, scheduling my mornings no differently than I would if I had to leave for the office each day. A break in these routines can cause me a lot of angst. This is problematic in the world of baby when he’s changing so fast that nothing stays the same for long. It’s particularly daunting now because in one month, we’ll make a pretty big change to out little eco-system when Baby V enters full-time daycare.
We’ve had a nanny watching Baby V ever since I went back to work after my 3-month maternity leave. We originally planned for him to go immediately into daycare, but I had a change of heart once we knew he would have some medical/surgical needs for his first 6-7 months of life. I wanted to keep him under my protective mother hen wing until all of those obstacles were in the past, which, thankfully, they totally are now!
Now that Baby V is moving, babbling and exploring like crazy, the time is right. We want him to have social interactions with more babies on a more regular basis, and as he gets older, it will get harder for the two of us to be in the house at the same time. I’ve heard from other moms that the baby won’t understand why he can’t play with me when I’m in the house. And, I’ll admit, I find lots of excuses to venture to the nursery or playroom during the day to play peek-a-boo.
Babies are super adaptable, but I’m nervous how he’ll make the transition at 10.5 months old. Will separation anxiety be overwhelming? Will he nap at all? Will the bigger babies frighten him? And, not to mention, will the silence of my home office make me daydream (and fret) about what he’s doing at daycare?
Entering daycare isn’t the first time we’ve experienced a change to our delicately constructed way of life with a baby: me going back to work, one parent traveling, moving houses, to name a few. We survived all of those, and I honestly don’t even remember if they were that dramatic. Thank goodness for selective memories, right?